


Eye for Trouble

by Lightspeed



Series: Monstrous Intent [25]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Bobbing for apples, Coming Out As A Monster, Confessions, Dirty Jokes, Dullahan - Freeform, Dullahan!Soldier, Faun!Scout, Fauns & Satyrs, Garuda - Freeform, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Humor, Lingerie, M/M, Magic, Questioning The Team Split, RED Team Actually Shows Up, Werewolf!Demoman, Werewolves, garuda!Medic, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After so long of hiding who he is, Demoman decides that it’s time to come clean about who he is at the BLU team’s Halloween Party.  After all, most of the team isn’t human anymore, it seems.  All the same, he’s nervous as hell.  Meanwhile, the RED team seems to have pissed off a certain wizard.  What the HELL is that firing eye missiles at them in the battlefield?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye for Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Costume idea credits:  
> Scout’s costume: unicornsandbutane and scouthater  
> Engie’s costume: sirfacepalm23  
> Soldier’s costume: ysmni  
> Thanks for the ideas!

"You can do this," Sniper whispered, rubbing Demoman's shoulders to ease the tension that thrummed through him. The Australian's dog-ear headband shifted as he tilted his head to press a kiss to the Scot's cheek, bumping into the akubra perched atop his lover's head. His own akubra, perched there as part of a costume he wore, along with a pair of sunglasses and one of the bushman's work shirts, worn open over a white tee, being that the bomber had a broader frame than himself. Sniper rocked side-to-side on his heels, swaying his body and encouraging Demoman to follow the soothing motion, the wolf tail fastened to the back of the assassin's slacks wagging as they rocked.

"Can I?" Demoman muttered, his guts clenched tight, the sensation of swaying side to side in his lover's arms working to unknot them slightly. This was big. This was huge. This was important.

"Heavy, Medic, Scout, Soldier. You. Over half the team aren't 'uman, Love." Sneaking round front of the worried werewolf, Sniper leaned in and let his tongue slip out to lap at the side of Demoman's nose, breaking the bomber into a small fit of laughter.

"Och, enough with the kisses, pup! This is serious!"

"You're the one who thought dressin' me as yourself would be funny."

"It's still funny."

"Only 'cause of 'ow cute you look in my shirt."

"Just be happy I didnae make ye dress how I do when I'm a wolf."

"You mean not dressed at all?"

Demoman just grinned.

"You'd like that far too much," Sniper teased, giving his lover's bottom a squeeze. "Now come on, let's get back."

The lovers stepped back in from the hallway, where they'd stepped out to discuss Demoman's plans to reveal himself to the rest of the team. The mess hall itself was resplendent with decorations both festive and fearsome, fake bats and ghosts, paper streamers in orange and black, pumpkins and spiderwebs everywhere to set the stage for the team's yearly Halloween party. A hi-fi dragged in from Scout's room sat in the corner playing some semi-danceable tunes, while the team milled about and ate a mixture of sweets and savories prepared by Engineer.

A metal wash tub sat near the door to the kitchen, filled with water and apples. Beside it, Scout stood against the wall, cowboy hat wedged between his antlers, a bandana wrapped around his neck, and a pair of cowboy boots clumsily stuffed with socks until they fit his hooved feet. Another bandana, folded in half in a wide triangle, was supported by a rope slung around his hips, barely covering his front but nothing of his rear. Most of the team had posited his Twinkie the Kid costume was in poor taste, if more than a little tasty. All the same, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and pouted because he couldn't get his face into the basin because of his antlers. Pyro walked up to him, the colourful faerie wings strapped to his suit trailing glitter everywhere, and handed the frustrated faun an apple with a hopeful muffle. After staring petulantly at the fruit for a moment, Scout dropped his shoulders and took the proffered fruit with a thanks, sinking his teeth into its flesh with a loud bite.

Engineer stirred a pot full of chili at the food table, peering in to get a sniff, making sure the mixture didn't set up and get solid as it sat. The bee wings and antennae he wore bounced with his movements, which Spy followed with amusement. The rogue relaxed along a bench seat, unwrapping candies and slowly gorging idly, savoring the oddly disgusting flavour of American chocolate and the strange texture of peanut butter cups. There was something about it that he couldn't get enough of. His mask was pushed up atop his head to allow him the chance to snack, a blue face with large teeth and horns. He was wrapped up in the warm, billowing silks of his happi and hakama, and beside him, a lightweight replica of a tetsubo on the floor filled out his oni costume.

Heavy and Medic slow-danced by the hi-fi, a pair perfectly matched in their respective demon and angel disguises, which included a rather feminine, backless mini-dress for the doctor, likely purchased in the women's section at the local costume shop.

 

Looking about, Sniper and Demoman realized Soldier was still nowhere to be seen. He'd said his costume would take time. At this point, curiosity had given way to dread as to what it could be.

"Go on, Tav," Sniper urged, leading his lover in.

"Er, right." Demoman cleared his throat loudly, gathering his teammates' attention. "Lads, I, er, I have somethin' tae say. Somethin' important. Ye, ye might want tae pay attention."

The rest of the team gathered round. Heavy turned down the hi-fi. All eyes were on Demoman as he felt his stomach clench even harder. A set of calloused fingers worked their way between his own, Sniper intertwining their hands to hold him tight. Partly to encourage. Partly in case he tried to run.

"What's up, Demo?" Scout asked, chewing at his apple.

"Well, ye already ken, Scout, but, well, it's, it's sort o' like..."

"Quit stallin'," Sniper mumbled.

"I'm... there's something about me most o' ye dinnae ken. And it's about time I come clean. It's important ye all ken. Explains a lot o' things, and for yer safety, ye should--"

"Out with it!" the bushman prodded, elbowing his lover.

"I'm a werewolf!" Demoman blurted, eye wide. The room was silent in his wake, the air heavy and thick, hanging between them like a palpable force for the moments before Medic finally spoke.

"Oh, is that all? I thought something was wrong, Demo! Do not scare us like that!"

"Er, what?"

"We already know," Engineer shrugged, his antennae bopping about with the motion.

"Ja, it was supposed to still be a secret?"

Demoman bristled, the bottom falling out of his stomach. They knew? THEY BLOODY KNEW? How in all nine of the hells did they know? "Well, aye, I thought it was."

"Honestly, it wasn't that hard to figure out, partner," the Texan rejoined. "I mean, you made a habit of disappearin' a lot at night to throw us off the trail, sure, but then Medic and I caught Sniper here headin' out to go bed hisself a werewolf. Almost right away after the two of you were joined at the hip, you're on base more in the evenings, and suddenly the both of you are scarce once a month? Not hard to piece things together."

Demoman chewed at the inside of his lip, cheeks darkening with the realization of just how much he'd slipped in trying to keep his secret. "Here I was thinkin' it was Scout lettin' it slip."

"Oh, ja, he wasn't very good at keeping it a secret, especially once he saw what I had become," Medic confirmed with a chuckle, going quiet as he saw the bomber return his glare to the youngest of their number.

"Aw come on, Doc!" Scout yelped, slipping behind Heavy to hide.

"Who did you tell, Scout?" Sniper growled darkly.

"Just the Doc! And, yanno, Heavy by proxy. And Soldier. But-but he was upset because I found out he was a crazy headless horseman thing! It made him feel better! It's not like you're the only monster, Demo! Like, hell, I got deer ass, come on!" Scout shrank further and further behind the Russian.

"So a third o' the bloody team."

"There's only two thirds who ain't you, me, an' yer chewtoy, man! That ain't fair!"

"Relax, Demoman. Is not big deal. If anything, you are less monster than Doktor or Scout or Soldier. You are only monster once per month," Heavy reasoned with a smile. "And it help you find boyfriend. Tiny Scout was just trying to help other teammates feel better."

Demoman deflated, his rage spent, his anxiety unwinding, and the odd fugue of strife never manifested replacing it. "Och, yer right. It's fine, Scout. I'm nae goin' tae kill ye. 'Least nae today," he chuckled.

"Oh thank fuck," the faun breathed, stepping from behind the half-giant with a sigh.

A silence fell, the moment growing awkward.

"So, uh, I'm all dressed up as a Twinkie over here," Scout offered, "anyone wanna gimme some cream fillin'?"

A loud bang rocked the base, rattling the windows and shaking the floors. All eyes turned to the windows facing the battlefield, the Viaduct between the bases RED and BLU had been stationed to for the month.

"What in Sam Hill are they doin' over there?" Engineer asked, peering out of the rime-edged window of the second-story mess hall. Explosions rocked the air and ground in equal measure, flames belching out into the night as flashes of bright purple lit up the sides of the outbuildings and bases. It was certainly a way to interrupt the party, that was for sure. Screams of battle and terror echoed into the dark of the evening, and the stout Texan was baffled at his ability to hear all of it through the sealed storm windows of the BLU base, designed to insulate against the cold as effectively as it could to avoid spending money on heating. He hadn't even finished his aural enhancement implants yet.

Medic rushed outside, flinging a side door to the base open at the commotion, his eyes wide, his heart pounding, his shoulders and thighs immediately freezing in the cold air, snowflakes biting at the exposed skin between his thigh-high stockings and the extremely short halter dress that barely afforded him any modesty. He wrapped his wings around himself, the headband he wore, which sported a halo on a wire, bobbing about with his movements. Even if Heavy had been very, very in favour of his Sexy Angel costume, Medic was now deeply regretting it. Or at least barging out into the snowy expanse outside the base, peering past the buildings uphill toward the Viaduct, where the lights and sounds of unholy hell broke loose. His heels sank into the icy snow with no resistance, putting him ankle-deep in the stuff.

"Doktor! Are you trying to get sick?" Heavy asked, plodding out behind him and scooping the scantily-clad garuda-cum-angel into his warm arms. A pang of guilt hit him; the costume was his idea, after all. The half-giant's own garb did far more to protect him from the elements, the outfit consisting of a billowing black poet shirt beneath a tailored red and black doublet and black cloak, topped with a pair of small, red horns spirit-gummed to his forehead and false bat wings on his back. He fancied that the wind whipping through it cut a rather dramatic image as he held his shivering angel.

"I am fine, Schatz! Let me down!" Medic fussed, shifting about in his lover's arms. "I need to see what is going on!"

Reluctantly, Heavy set Medic back down on his heels, stepping back as he saw his wings begin to spread. The doctor lifted off slowly, flapping his white wings with great effort to clear the ground, cold and offering no thermal lift. The winds worked against him, but soon he had cleared the second story of the base, hovering just above the window and gazing out at the battlefield ahead.

Heavy looked up and smiled, admiring a different view.

Engineer, too, looked up from the window, up the very short dress Medic wore, treated to the sight of a lacy white thong peeking from beneath. His eyes went wide, and he slapped a hand over them to stop himself. "Nope." Scout's costume was more than enough bare ass for him for one night.

"Mein GOTT!" Medic cried, staring wide-eyed out into the chaos beyond. "It is amazing! The RED Team, they are having a Halloween party, too! Oh, their Medic is dressed like a mad scientist! Und their Heavy is dressed like Frankenstein's monster—oh it's a theme, how clever!"

"Is Halloween party?" Heavy asked, confused. "With explosions?"

"Ah, well, the party seems to be over!" the doctor called down. "Now they seem to be fighting some sort of...thing."

"What sort of thing?" came a voice from below. It was Sniper, staring up at him while trying to keep the headband that supported his pair of fake dog ears anchored to his head. The tag of his collar gleamed in the flashes of colourful lights, a leash leading from it to Demoman's hand. Looking down, Medic saw the whole team, save Soldier had arrived.

He noticed Scout staring at him in much the same way Heavy was and smirked. His lower bandana was tenting out. Good to see the men liked what they saw. "It is...I do not know how to say this, but it appears the RED Team is fighting...a giant, very angry, human eye. With brown eyelids. Und it is transporting about the Viaduct through what appear to be Underworld portals. Und it is conjuring und firing small, exploding eyes as missiles."

"A giant eye? It's mine! That's the bloody Monoculus! THAT'S ME BLOODY EYE!" Demoman gaped, pointing wildly in the direction Medic was looking. "ME HAUNTED EYE! Merasmus must have sicced it on 'em for something!"

"Well, the RED Soldier is his current roommate," Soldier commented, stepping out of the base, shifting carefully to get the wide skirts of his exaggerated, Elizibethan gown through the doors. His head, not yet attached and cleaned up for costume use, was tucked under his arm. "So it is entirely likely he pissed him off and summoned the thing. He does that sometimes."

"Who the bloody 'ell are you supposed to be?" Sniper asked the dullahan, looking him over.

"I am Anne Boleyn, what does it look like?"

"I suppose it looks like Anne Boleyn," the bushman mumbled, more confused that Soldier knew who Anne Boleyn was than anything. Though the perfectly-fitting gown raised its own questions, lovely as it was.

With a flare of his wings and some lazy flaps, Medic descended to the ground, careful as he touched down on his high heels. "So they are fighting your haunted eye?"

"Unless it is RED Demoman's haunted eye," Soldier offered with a shift of his skirts. "He lost his eye to the Bombinomicon too."

"He did?" Demoman asked, his simmering rage subsiding for a moment.

"Yes."

"Honestly, that seems to be how things work. Our duplicates on the opposing team seem to be almost exactly the same as us but for a few differences. The RED Scout is heterosexual. The BLU Scout is pansexual. The BLU Spy has casual sex with the BLU Scout sometimes. The RED Spy is in a sexual relationship with the BLU Scout's mother."

"You don't need to remind us, thanks, Doc."

"Yet we have the same histories, families, und origins somehow. Almost as though there were two of everything in our histories that exist simultaneously, untouched except by ourselves but not by one another," the doctor continued, ignoring the annoyed faun.

"He cannae be the same as me. There's only one o' me," Demoman insisted with a frown.

"It is entirely possible he is the same as you, but for one variable or another. In this case, there is only one werewolf between the two of you. Also, I do not think the RED Demoman is dating his team's Sniper. So that's two things."

"We're allowed to talk about Demoman being a werewolf, now?" Soldier asked.

"He just announced it while you were getting ready," Spy replied coolly, leaning on his tetsubo like a tall cane.

"Aye, thank ye, Spy. I'm a werewolf. And apparently everyone knew about it already." The bomber sighed, still a bit exasperated.

"I do not have a head," Soldier announced, calling attention to the normalcy of his teammate's condition. "And there is a giant eyeball that might be yours shooting smaller eyeballs at the RED Team."

"Ye have a point," the Scot chuckled, turning his gaze to the lights flashing over the outbuildings and out of the Viaduct.

"Come on, Love," Sniper urged, gripping his lover by the shoulders. "Let's gear up and show 'em how a pack of monsters does Halloween."

"Ye dinnae get tae call yerself a monster just 'cause yer datin' one," Demoman laughed, tugging at Sniper's collar and smirking darkly at his light gasp. "But aye, let's get 'em! I'll show 'em who's top dog!"

"Maybe you can show me later? Just so I'm clear on it?" Sniper nosed into his lover's neck, nibbling gently at his warm skin.

" _After_ we help kill the haunted floating eye, Dee."

"Er, yeh, right."


End file.
